The Mathematics of Success
by Pantharya
Summary: It went without saying that Joey's Rattata was in the top percentage of all Rattata, and this meant that he was destined for success! Eventually. Probably.


Joey didn't know how he got himself into these messes.

The battle already seemed hopeless. Rattata was dodging left and right as fast as it could but Mikey's Pidgey was relentless. It kept tackling over and over again, giving no opening at all for Ratatta do anything but run the shit away. This Pidgey was... well, it was like a fierce demon bird fresh from the gates of hell! It practically _smelt _of brimstone. The cute way it wiggled its wings couldn't fool him; it was most definitely the harbinger of death embodied.

Joey was on the verge of giving up and calling it quits but then, as if the very universe itself wanted to smite the hellish fiend, there was an opening. The Pidgey finally stumbled, its clawed feet catching on an upturned root. It wobbled precariously on one foot, tried to regain its balance, then failed miserably. It fell face first into the dirt road.

Now was his chance. Ultimate triumph was within his grasp!

"Go Rattata! Tackle!" Joey screamed.

His Rattata leapt forward eagerly, ploughing towards the foe, teeth bared and ready to-

Someone tugged on his sleeve. Joey ignored it, but then it happened again. Someone was trying to catch his attention.

Despite himself, Joey glanced to the side. There was another kid there, maybe a year or two older than Joey himself. He was smiling expectantly.

He was also dressed in a smarmy collection of clothes that just _screamed _of New Bark Town, complete with quirky hat turned the wrong way around. What a snobbish way to wear a hat!

It was, of course, entirely irrelevant that Joey was wearing his hat like that too. After all, Joey's hat was blue, and _everyone _knew that blue was the coolest colour around. This guy's hat was yellow and black. I mean, come on, that practically spoke for itself: this guy was a dick, and he clearly didn't realise the momentous importance of the event he was disrupting.

"What?" Joey demanded, but a bird-like scream jerked his attention back to the battlefield. His Rattata had hit something! "This is a big battle! Leave me alone!"

Joey pretended to ignore him completely and, eventually, it worked. The guy left -stalked, really- in the direction of Mr. Pokemon's house.

But by then it was too late. Joey turned back to the battle only to find that Mikey's Pidgey had managed to clamp its beak down on Rattata's tail. Hard_. _And it wasn't letting go any time soon.

This left only one thing for Rattata to do: it ran rabidly in circles while screaming in a fury of pain. He did it really well, if Joey did say so himself.

And that was it. It was all over.

Once Joey said as much Mikey convinced this firey hell fiend to let go of his Rattata's tail, leaving Rattata to scamper back to the protection that was Joey's legs. Joey picked him up and held the poor little guy close as Mikey walked up to them both.

He opened his mouth to say something- probably something smug, knowing him- but he was momentarily distracted by his Pidgey flying up to perch on his shoulder. The bird landed and coo'd gently. Its cuteness was irrelevant; it still didn't fool Joey.

"Demon bird," he muttered.

"What?" Mikey asked.

Joey froze.

"Uh," he said, thinking frantically for a cover. "...lemon curd?"

"Oh, no thanks. I'm allergic."

Joey made a mental note of that. Slipping Lemon Curd into Mikey's lunchbox might just be his ticket to beating him next time.

With everything said and done Mikey didn't wait around. He smiled and, with an inviting look, winked at Joey before turning to leave.

Joey didn't understand that at all, so he opted to ignore it. He was getting good at that now. Mikey was one weird kid sometimes.

When Mikey was safely out of earshot Joey muttered sourly under his breath. Then he moped his way over to the side of the dirt road and plonked himself in the tall grass, completely ignoring the peaceful rustle of the wind hitting the trees all around him.

The result of the battle was nigh on unbelievable. How had Rattata lost?

His Rattata was good –really good- but it clearly it just couldn't stand up to a foe was dastardly as Mikey's Pidgey. Joey was going to have to whine about this next time: strictly no demon birds allowed. I mean, it wasn't like his Rattata was not just some ordinary Rattata. No way! His Rattata was freaking awesome! It was as if his Rattata was special in some way, almost like it was better than the other Rattata. He would even go so far as to say that his Rattata was in the top percentage of Rattata.

...yeah, that sounded about right. He liked that. He'd have to write it down for later.

But for now, faced with the ultimate defeat of his most trusted (and only) pokémon, Joey did what all noble pokémon trainers of the highest calibre did.

He sulked.

It just wasn't fair!

"You'll win one day, won't you, Rattata?" he asked.

Rattata squeaked his small cry in response. Then it went back to nibbling on his sneakers.

It would have to work, eventually. One day they'd write the story of Joey and his Rattata, and it would be a tale of epic proportions! It'd be called 'Prepare for Trouble: Make it _Rattata_', or 'Me and Rattata vs the World!' ...Or was it supposed to be 'Rattata and I vs the World'? Joey didn't pay enough attention in English to tell the difference- but then, who could pay attention in school when they had a Rattata as exciting as this one? His Rattata was _freaking epic._

As if in response to his thoughts Rattata peered up at him. Well, that was certainly coincidental. Unless...

... Could Rattata read MINDS?

Before he could entertain the concept fully, Joey realised Rattata wasn't looking _at _him but was rather looking _behind_ him. He turned to see what it was staring at. To his great surprise it was the trainer from before; the dick one, from New Bark Town. He was walking up the dirt path that Joey had been battling on just moment before.

Joey was struck by a sudden idea. This was his chance! What better way to prove Rattata's worth to the world than to save the world from awful fashion sense?

Joey leapt up from the grass. He scared the shit out of the other guy in the process too, which was even better. His plan was going very well so far.

"Wait!" Joey called. "You look weak! Come on, let's battle!"

He thought the other guy would need some convincing, or would at the very least react to his taunt, but nope. He consented straight away, and certainly didn't waste any time about it either. His pokémon was out on the battlefield faster than Joey could strike his epic battle pose- which was pretty damn fast, mind you. The trainer's pokémon was a small, pudgey thing with a cute little snout and closed eyes. It was also seriously close to being black and yellow in colour, and that practically spoke for itself. The little sucker was doomed.

After all, what were the chances that someone dressed like _that _would be a talented trainer?

"Go Rattata!"

Joey's Rattata leapt forward eagerly, screaming its ferocious death cry as it went. It may have sounded more like a squeak to the uninitiated, but Rattata were Joey's specialty and he knew a ferocious death cry when he heard it. Rattata bared its fangs and pawed the air, ready to attack. Shit was about to go _down. _

But, a mere second later, Joey's buzz was doused. The opponent's pokémon had just erupted into flames, and not in the 'spontaneous combustion' way. Apparently this was a Cyndaquil.

Holy. Shit.

The battle was over even faster than the last one. Rattata was left running for its life, tail singed with murderous fire as the Cyndaquil waddled after it. Joey was forced to call Rattata back to its Pokéball, letting the sinking feeling of utter failure engulf him once again.

But of course, Joey was never one for moping twice in one day. Instead the sting of losing fuelled his temper, and he could get _very _mad when the situation called for it. Joey was half a second away from hurling acidic abuse at the guy- and as his father was an avid football fan, Joey was already swearing at tenth grade level.

He was about to, but then a sudden idea held him back. This guy was strong, annoyingly strong, and what was the secret to being strong? Beating other strong people! He needed to fight this guy more often.

And, secretly, another better purpose arose from the depths of his mind.

He needed someone new that he could preach to about the Glory of Rattata. Joey couldn't rant to Mikey anymore, mainly because Mikey kept telling on him to his mother whenever he tried to, and Joey was running out of days to be grounded on. But this guy was fresh meat. More than that, he probably had no idea who his mum was. He was perfect!

...unless he was a spy. Oh, pokémon gods, what if he was a spy?

No, he had to risk it! This might be the last chance he got in a long time. Risk was for winners!

"Hey, can I get your number?" Joey called to the trainer. "I'll ring you up to battle."


End file.
